Already Dead (Laura Frost FBI)

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Woah!” Laura exclaimed, holding up a hand and staring at Agent Won. “Agent Won – a word.”

She pulled at Agent Won’s arm when he tried to step past her anyway, obviously intent on delivering the handcuffs that he had pulled out. He looked at her with a half-pleading expression, putting her in mind of nothing more than a little boy whose mother was telling him off in front of his friends. But he gave way, stumbling around and turning back towards the exit when she pushed him.

He’d gone too far. She was supposed to be the senior agent here, and they hadn’t discussed this. Besides the fact that she was sure he was wrong, he was also coming on way too strong – like an FBI agent from a movie, not someone who had to deal with real-life people.

This was a basement apartment – only one way in and out. They weren’t risking an escape attempt by leaving Colt Peake on his own. Not that Laura believed for even a moment he was really the person they needed to be arresting, anyway.

Laura didn’t stop moving, or pushing Agent Won along in front of her, until they got outside of the apartment again and were standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Laura hissed immediately.

“What am I doing?” Agent Won replied, giving her a boggle-eyed look. “What are you doing? Why did you stop me? We need to take him in!”

“No, we really don’t,” Laura said. She folded her arms across her chest. “Have you forgotten that I’m the senior agent on this case? You’re supposed to run things like this past me before you take any action!”

“Is that it?” Agent Won said, groaning. “Sorry. I got excited. I could see he needed taking in, so I just wanted to be the one to do it.”

“No, that’s not it,” Laura snapped, shaking her head at him. “We don’t need to take him in. He doesn’t have anything to do with this murder.”

“What?” Agent Won gaped, then gestured behind her, towards the apartment. “Didn’t you hear him? He was stalking her! He took that picture without her permission and then he tried to hide it from us – and her mother already told us to watch out for him. It’s got to be him!”

“That’s a mighty big assumption to make from very few facts,” Laura warned him. “Don’t forget, Agent Won, that the choices we make here affect people’s lives. What do you think happens when we drag in somebody for questioning?”

Agent Won stared at her like he wasn’t sure the answer would be so obvious, and yet it was obvious to him. “We get to question them?”

“No,” Laura said. “We can question them whenever we want. Right here at home, for example. But when we take them in, people see it. The press get wind of it. Names and reputations get dragged through the mud, and sometimes they don’t recover.”

“So we’re supposed to just let him get away with it or something?” Agent Won scoffed. “I did the training. I know if we interrogate him at the precinct in front of a camera and tapes, we can use it in court. Otherwise, it would just be our testimony against his.”

“No, we’re supposed to be sure,” Laura said. “A lot more sure than we are right now. We’ve barely even spoken to the guy. Did you think about asking him for an alibi?”

Agent Won opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I thought we would do that at the precinct,” he said, eventually.

“How about doing it right now?” Laura said. She shook her head. “You haven’t been doing this long enough to have a gut instinct yet. You need to look at facts and evidence before you do anything rash. And don’t go jumping the gun.”

“I’m good at this,” Agent Won insisted. “I scored really high at the Academy. And I’m good at reading people. Just because I haven’t done as many cases as you, you can’t just assume I’m wrong all the time!”

“I’m not assuming,” Laura said. “I’m using my own skills. Let’s go inside, shall we, and hear what he has to say for himself?”

Agent Won’s nostrils flared for a moment before he let out a heavy breath. “You undermined me in front of him,” he said.

“You undermined me by acting without my approval,” Laura corrected him. “Do it again, and I’ll do the same thing. You’re a rookie. I’m the senior agent. That’s the way it has to be.”

“I’m not just a rookie,” he said, petulantly, before pushing past her and back into the apartment.

Laura let that go with a sigh. She turned to go into the apartment after one last look at the sky above them, a much brighter-seeming sight in comparison to the dingy basement. It was getting on into the later part of the afternoon, and this was a waste of time.

She let her hand touch the wall as she moved along the corridor back to the living room, guiding her own steps. Her hand landed on fabric instead: a scrap of red she hadn’t noticed hanging on the wall before. A flare of pain hit her head, and before she had a chance to think about why –

The flames were dancing again, just like in her last vision. Floating in front of her eyes, bending to an invisible current, making shapes that seemed to torment her until she saw things that weren’t there. And then – a darkness. The flames, snuffed out. Just the light impression of smoke bending away into the darkness. Like a candle being blown out.

Laura blinked, clearing her head. She took the scrap of fabric with her as she moved back to join Colt and Agent Won, examining it more closely. It looked familiar. Very familiar.

“What is this?” she asked, coming to a stop in front of Colt, right next to Agent Won. For his part, Won was silent, almost sulky, like he didn’t want to speak until he was given permission now. Good.

Colt wet his lips. “It’s a bit of her apron,” he said. “I… I didn’t do anything! It was an old one and it ripped, and she threw it in the trash! I just... saw, and… I saved it. That’s all!”

Laura sighed. This boy was in need of a lesson in not going too far, but that was all. She had to end this, leave before Agent Won jumped to another conclusion. “Where were you on Saturday night?”

“I was at the Fresh Catch,” Colt said.

“The Fresh Catch?”

“The diner where Ashley worked,” Agent Won supplied, looking a surly kind of smug that he’d known something she hadn’t.

“And after she finished her shift?” Laura prompted.

“I stayed there late,” Colt said. “I… I paid for the food, so I wanted to stay at the table for as long as possible. I didn’t want to come home. She told me she wasn’t going to go out with me again, and I… I was feeling down. I was there until closing. You can ask anyone else who works there!”

“Alright,” Laura said, deciding this whole thing was done. For a moment she thought about throwing the apron scrap over to Colt, but it was better that he didn’t have it. It had triggered one vision already, and besides, she didn’t want him to think his behavior was fine. “I’m keeping this. Get a new hobby. And for God’s sake, when a girl tells you she’s not interested, move on. You’re lucky no one has filed charges against you yet.”

Laura turned, ignoring the flabbergasted look on Colt’s face. He’d just experienced what was probably the equivalent of a bombshell for him. Thinking he would be arrested, then not being, then being dealt a harsh truth. He was going to have to deal with that on his own. Or with the local police, whichever came first.

She’d known already she was right about him being innocent. Now she was even more sure, and the vision had solidified it.

There was importance in those flames. She had seen them twice, now. She was getting the feeling that they weren’t just something the killer set up on the body. They were more than that. Maybe something intrinsically connected to him, like through his job or something. Some aspect of his personality that would lead them right to him.

Laura stepped outside into the fresh air gratefully, checking her cell phone as they walked back to the car. No new messages. She’d been hoping for something from Rondelle, maybe. She bit her lip slightly, watching Agent Won stalk back to the car like a teenager in the middle of a petulant fit.

If she didn’t sort out this thing with Nate, she was going to be stuck with Agent Won instead. She didn’t want that. She’d rather work alone.

“Get in the car and wait for me,” Laura said, almost hating the way it came out sounding like an order. But only almost, because it was an order. She apparently had to tell him every little thing, or he was going to go off the rails and arrest every passerby and his dog. It was too much like babysitting. She hated it.